


Mistletoe

by noturaveragedumbass



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Gen, LadyNoir - Freeform, ML Secret Santa, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-28 22:45:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17191676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noturaveragedumbass/pseuds/noturaveragedumbass
Summary: They were supposed to be on patrol. Neither knew how they ended up in that situation, only that it happened after a game of Cat and Bug, a Very Deep conversation, and a snowball fight. But there they were, under that cursed plant. Mistletoe.





	Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [360loverpenguin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/360loverpenguin/gifts).



Of all the ways Chat Noir expected to spend his night, this was not one of them. They were supposed to be on patrol. Patrol did not include chasing each other through Paris, nor did it include not actually paying any attention to the city below them. But Chat couldn’t bring himself to care, especially not since he wouldn’t see Ladybug the day after unless there was an akuma attack, which weren’t really helpful if he wanted to spend time with his Lady because then they’d have to be focusing on the akuma.

Her laughter echoed through the cold, empty streets of Paris, and Chat couldn’t help but smile as he sped up, running towards the general direction of the laugh. Their little games of Cat and Bug were worth going through his stifling civilian life if it meant this was at the end of it. He’d eventually caught up to her, though that could have been because she’d stopped on a rooftop and was admiring the lights. They were mesmerizing, especially at this time of the year.

“Caught you,” said Chat, grinning.

“It doesn’t count if I stopped, Kitty.”

“Yeah it does.”

“It doesn’t prove anything on your part other than the fact that you can’t catch anything unless is stops,” she said, rolling her eyes, though she was smiling.

“Meowch.”

A silence fell over them, in which both of them were just enjoying each other’s presence.

“It’s really pretty,” said Chat, breaking the silence.

“Yeah.” After a beat, Ladybug continued, “The lights are my favorite part of the holidays.”

Another silence fell over them, as Chat contemplated how he should reply to that.

 

“Do you ever wonder if we would’ve met even if we didn’t get our Miraculouses?” he asked suddenly.

“Sometimes. Maybe we would have. Maybe not. I do know that life would be a lot more boring without you around,” she admitted.

“I personally think that we would have found each other anyway. Somehow.”

“Really?” Ladybug asked, smiling ironically.

“Well, at least, I’d hope so,” he replied with such seriousness that Ladybug looked up at him from where she was sitting on the snow-covered rooftop. Chat was still looking ahead, his expression unreadable.

A year ago, Ladybug would have dismissed Chat’s feelings for her as mindless flirting, but now, after the Glaciator, she knew better. It would be so easy to give in to her own feelings for Chat that she only recently acknowledged the existence of, but she resisted, partly because of her feelings for Adrien and partly because she still felt like Chat had fallen for the façade she put up as Ladybug. Ladybug was fearless and confident. Marinette was not.

And because she didn’t want to deal with it at the moment, because she was a coward, she got up and she ran.

“Bet you can’t catch me this time!” she shouted as she took off.

She heard something that sounded vaguely like “It’s on” come from behind her, though she couldn’t be sure.

 

It was a while before he caught up to her, and they were back on rooftop for the second time that night. They were enveloped in a relatively comfortable silence, though some of the tension from their previous conversation still remained. Neither acknowledged it however, both staring off into the dimly lit Parisian night.

So Ladybug didn’t expect the ball of white mush that hit her spandex-clad shoulder. She looked up in shock, and was met by the sight of Chat Noir standing with another snowball in his hand, his face split into a grin.

“What’s wrong Bugaboo?” He asked playfully. “Cat got your tongue?”

Ladybug rose slowly, her fingers wrapped around her own snowball. A dangerous smile spread across her face, causing Chat’s grin to drop, for he knew that he had started a war.

The ball of mush hit him dead in the chest. The empty street soon became the venue of their snowball fight. They really shouldn’t have been ditching patrol for this, but it felt so good, and no one needed to know anyway.

Neither of them knew how they ended up in an alley, or how Chat managed to back Ladybug against the wall, but at the moment neither of them cared. What they did care about, however, was the fact that they were so close they were breathing the same air. They were both frozen in place, staring at each other with a strange sort of shock, as if just realizing this. Ladybug knew that if she didn’t look away from his intense gaze, she would give in to what every inch of her being screamed at her to do.

Though maybe she shouldn’t have looked up. What she saw above their heads was probably not the best sight for someone who wanted to preserve their sanity. She silently prayed her partner wouldn’t see it so that she could pretend it wasn’t there. They had clearly fell on deaf ears, as Chat Noir followed her gaze to the sprig of mistletoe hanging off the edge of a balcony.

“Um, y-you don’t have t-to do i-it. I-it’s f-fine,” he stuttered out, stepping back and awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, his face flushed red.

She didn’t know what compelled her to do it, but the next thing she knew, her lips were on his, their bodies flushed together. He didn’t respond at first, but soon melted into it. When they parted, they were both out of breath and blushing. 

It took a second for the events to catch up to her. She kissed Chat Noir. Chat Noir kissed her back. What was wrong with her?

“I-I should get going. Bye!” And with that she ran for the second time that night. She heard him yell something that sounded vaguely like “Wait!” but she didn’t stop.

 

“Tikki, I kissed Chat Noir!”

Said kwami was at the moment nibbling on a cookie, watching in amusement as her chosen flopped onto her bed and covered her face with a pillow in a dramatic display of despair. 

“You like him,” the kwami said teasingly.

“No I don’t! I like Adrien, remember!” Marinette said in a desperate attempt to defend herself.

“Then why did you kiss him?” asked Tikki in the same teasing tone.

Marinette threw a pillow at her. “You know, for an ancient being, you’re being really immature.”

But the red of her face indicated that she knew that her kwami was right, and she didn’t like it. There was no more denying it.

She, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, liked Chat Noir.

Admitting it to herself made it better somehow, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She hadn’t realized how much stress her newfound feelings were causing her until that moment.

“What are you going to tell him?” asked her kwami, interrupting the bliss that came with her confession.

“Hmm?” 

“You did just run off with no explanation,” Tikki pointed out.

Marinette just groaned.

 

“Plagg, Ladybug kissed me!”

“That’s like the eighth time you said that,” said Plagg, devouring his camembert, while wearily watching his wielder dreamily flop onto his bed.

“But Plagg, Ladybug kissed me!” Adrien repeated, as if his kwami hadn’t heard him the first time.

Plagg simply rolled his eyes, knowing it was a lost cause, and redirected his attention to his beloved camembert.

 

There was an akuma. Of course there had to be an akuma. Ladybug groaned as she swung over to the place in which the akuma was currently wreaking havoc. It didn’t even have the decency to attack during the day. No, of course it had to attack at night. On Christmas Eve. Literally the night before Christmas.

Chat was already on the scene, getting the akumatized person riled up with his cocky pun-filled taunts, and taking their attention off the civilians. At the sight of him, memories from the night before came to the forefront of her mind, and a blush rose to her cheeks. She pushed it down, making herself focus on the task at hand. 

The akumatized victim, Receiver from what she had gathered, seemed to have the power to make people do things for her, if the many people attending to her were any indication.   
“Where do you think the akuma is?” she asked, coming up behind Chat, trying to pretend they hadn’t made out in an alley just the night before.

“She hasn’t opened her left hand yet, so I’m guessing the object might be there,” replied Chat, also clearly flustered, if his lack of puns and the redness of his ears were any indication.

Sure enough, after a whole lot of being batted away, an akuma flew out of the torn paper that was clutched in the akuma’s left hand. Ladybug purified it, thankful that they were correct the first time. It probably should have been a lot harder to figure it out, but their disastrous encounter with Stoneheart seemed to have been good for something after all. 

After getting the victim back to where she was supposed to be, the heroes of Paris where left in only each other’s presence, which wouldn’t have been a problem if not for the fact that they had made out in an alley the night before. 

“So,” Chat began awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Are we going to talk about last night or are we just going to pretend it didn’t happen?”

Right. She’d been putting off thinking about what she was going to say to him, though that didn’t mean she didn’t think about the kiss. No, she thought about the kiss more than she’d like to admit. She remembered every detail vividly, because for some reason her mind felt the need to torture her. She remembered how his lips felt against hers, how he looked at her before their lips connected, the feeling of his body pressed against hers. But she didn’t think she’d see him until after Christmas, and was completely unprepared for this conversation.

So instead, she responded, “What about last night?” while giggling nervously.

If she couldn’t get out of this conversations she was at least going to stall for as long as she could. But Chat simply raised an eyebrow, knowing that she knew exactly what he was talking about. Why must he know her so well?

She looked around for a means of escape, and her eyes zeroed in on the small plant tied to the tree above Chat Noir’s head. There was no logical explanation behind what she did next. Her lips met his roughly this time, and he stumbled back a few steps before steadying himself. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, and his wrapped around her waist.

When they parted this time, Chat didn’t let her go, instead looking at her in confusion.

“Mistletoe,” she answered simply, nodding up towards that small sprig tied to the branch.

Realization dawned on his face, as well as a flicker of something that looked a bit like disappointment. 

“I already told you you didn’t have to if you didn’t want to.” 

“And what if I did?” 

It came out of her mouth before she could stop it, though she couldn’t find it in herself to regret it.

“Purrhaps then I could allow it,” he said, not even trying to suppress the grin on his face. “I meowt even let you do it again.”

And so she did, but this time she didn’t do it for the mistletoe.

They both knew they would have to talk about what exactly they were later, but for the moment, they were both content with each other’s presence. And lips. Definitely content with each other's lips.


End file.
